Copy That
by Phoebe Miller
Summary: 10.07 Coda - At the end of it all, Danny is there for Steve.


_**Such a powerful episode. I almost didn't write a coda. Don't be shy. Let me know what you think.**_

* * *

He couldn't break.

He wouldn't break.

He was broken.

Too late to save himself.

Too tired to go on.

Too scared to admit it.

He would not let it change him.

He knew who he was.

He was lost.

/././

Steve came out of the bathroom about twenty minutes later. They drank more beer, mostly in silence. Danny actually missed the sound of the waves at Steve's place. He missed his best friend's voice more and he was rewarded for his patience when Steve spoke again.

"You're the only thing good that's come of this life."

"Nah – I wouldn't say that. Not the only thing. You got-"

Steve held up his hand, beard and haunted eyes further emphasizing how serious he is. "No. Stop. Don't do that. You-" He touched Danny's leg. "You're here."

"Yea buddy." It crushed Danny that he couldn't help Steve. Not with anything concrete anyway. His presence now was all he could give. "Where else would I be?"

"You're here." Steve tapped his temple.

Danny scrunched up his face. "Wow – that's – you really need to see someone about that, babe."

His comment was met with a glare.

Closing his eyes, Danny shook his head and looked away. When he opened his eyes again, he swallowed hard. Pain and relief mixed on his face as tears glistened in the low light.

"I'm sorry, Steve. Really."

"Why are you sorry?" Steve had no patience, and his question was hard with rough edges.

"For your mom. For-" Danny struggled to answer. Steve touched Danny's leg again but let him continue. "For not coming after you."

"I specifically told you not to come. And you listened for once."

"But you-"

"No buts."

Steve didn't need to mention Grace or Charlie. Or the team. Or the fact that he couldn't bear to lose his best friend because of his mother.

Danny didn't change the subject so much as he shifted it. "Junior is –"

Steve cut Danny off with a frown and a heavy sigh. It took him a few seconds to share his thought.

"Junior disobeyed orders. He-"

"He's you." Danny laughed.

Steve was half amused but mostly surprised by the thought. "Me?"

"You 10 yrs ago. Young. Dumb. Insubordinate." Danny considered his words for a second. "No, maybe creative with the rules is more like it."

Steve sighed and nodded. A hint of the smile was visible under the gruff and pain.

Danny continued. "You had to know we'd come after you. Maybe not all of us. But we couldn't leave you behind."

"It was an unnecessary risk." Steve growled.

"Unnecessary risk? Come on. You are not unnecessary." Danny raised his voice. His breathing was shaky. "If Junior hadn't done what he did, you'd still be in that rat hole or worse, Steve. Worse."

Danny watched Steve's face and regretted what he'd said. He knew what Steve was thinking and some of his own negative thoughts intruded. Everything was wrapped up in an awful blanket of pain and guilt and a loneliness that was bone deep. No one could make it right. The _what ifs_ lingered though, further twisting the knife.

_If Junior hadn't launched his own mission, Doris might still be alive. _

_Or Steve could be dead. _

_Or they'd still be mired in the awful impasse of waiting and not knowing that had affected the whole team. _

Danny hadn't well slept in weeks, taking his insomnia to a new level. He'd lost ten pounds. He'd given himself an ulcer. Once Junior was gone, Danny had watched Tani go through the same things. He ached for her. Falling for a SEAL wasn't easy.

"Danny?" Concern dripped from Steve's voice. "You okay?"

Danny hated for Steve to worry about him but he liked the change in his best friend's eyes. He saw kindness and caring. The haunted death stare was fading.

"Define okay for me."

Steve nodded, noting Danny turning his earlier statement around on him. He rubbed his injured shoulder, and his face crumpled a little. There was no _okay_. Not that day.

The silence that descended was more than Danny could bear, and he stood up, stretching. Steve stared at the bottle he held in his hands. His walls were coming up again. This couldn't happen, so Danny started talking.

"Guys like us – you and me – don't often get happy endings. Not like everyone else." Danny paced in front of the window with his beer. "No we don't get life on our terms, Steven. If we did – I never woulda met you."

Recognition bloomed in Steve's eyes. And with it there was fondness and a love so profound it made Danny's chest hurt. But it was all gone in an instant.

The _beard of doom_, as Danny called it, clouded even a hint of happiness and any thought of love was wiped clean by the next wave. But he knew his Steve was in there, waiting and hoping. Times like this, Danny wished Doris had never left the first time. And if she did, he wished she'd never resurfaced. Because now Steve had lost his mom all over again. This was bigger and worse than Joe, and Joe's loss had been tough. Hell, it was worse than a drugged Steve believing his father was still alive after his final battle with Wo Fat.

Overwhelmed, Danny sat on the couch beside Steve and laid down the law. "You need to sleep. And don't tell me you're not tired. I'll be here. I've got first watch."

Steve chuckled a little at Danny's last statement. "I don't need a babysitter."

"Didn't say you did."

"Then what?" Steve narrowed his eyes, ready for a fight.

Danny crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not leaving you."

"You can't promise that."

"No, I can't. No one can, babe." Danny touched Steve's knee. "But I can do my best to fulfil my promise to you. We're partners. You're my best friend. I would do anything for you. Including letting you take on a suicide mission to save your mother. Knowing I might never see you again."

Steve watched Danny pull his hand away. "I know it was hard on you. I'm sorry."

Danny held up his hand. Clearing his throat, he took an unsteady breath and shook his head. _Goddamnit, he wanted to shake Steve. _

"Don't apologize. Let's sleep instead." Danny was on his feet again, nervous energy bubbling up.

"I get why you wanted the restaurant."

The comment was out of the blue, a curveball. Odd and endearing. Danny smiled. He took a sip of his beer.

Steve added. "I can't see my life without you now."

"Yea, babe. I feel the same." Danny felt like a bumbling idiot. He wanted to say something deep but his brain was scrambled. He decided against another beer.

"You held the line. You kept the team together. Not for the first time, either."

Danny dipped his head and didn't say anything. It wasn't often Steve said this much at one time. But there was something clinical about the way Steve was talking. Like a job interview or debriefing. Danny understood, though. Too much emotion and Steve would crack.

"I knew you would." Steve nodded to himself more than Danny, like he was remembering the last few weeks. "I didn't worry. I could focus."

"And you knew Junior would come after you?"

"I had that feeling – yes. Honestly, I wasn't thinking about much. Except for Doris and the cartel."

At the mention of his mother's name, Steve winced and closed his eyes.

Danny wanted to pull Steve into a hug but he was still wary of too much contact. The moment wasn't cuddly. He kept his voice soft, hoping to soothe his friend that way. "You need to sleep."

"I can't turn it off, Danny."

The agony in Steve's voice made Danny sent a rush of desperation through him. He needed to be closer without invading personal space. "Steve?"

"Alcohol didn't work." Steve's face pinched with pain. "I can't relax. I keep seeing her face."

Danny chewed on the inside of his bottom lip to keep from breaking down. Helpless, he froze and breathed in and out slowly, shaking his head. "Ah babe. I'm sorry."

"I keep dreaming about her. Dead and alive. But I'm so … tired." Steve looked everywhere but Danny.

"Hey, look at me, Steven." Danny sat beside Steve on the couch again, careful with his movements. "Get in bed. Rest. Maybe you'll sleep. Whatever. I'll stand watch."

"You're exhausted, too."

With a tilt of his head, Danny smiled at Steve. "Don't worry about me. I'm tired from a crappy flight. No big deal. Nothing I haven't dealt with before."

He received a nod from Steve and a deep, long sigh. Like a layer of hurt peeled away.

Danny stood again and took the beer from Steve's hand. "Take a load off. I've got your six. I always do."

"I know you do. You have nothing to be sorry for. You respected my wishes. You-" Steve's voice cracked and he wiped his mouth.

"Sleep. Now. Long talks later. Copy that?"

"Copy that."

"I'll take the couch. You're not the only one who can sleep anywhere."

"I was kidding about the bed."

"And I was kidding about sharing. You're used to sleeping alone. I don't want to wake up with a fist in my face." _Or worse. _

Steve didn't argue. Danny was right. Right then he wouldn't make a good bed mate. There were times he didn't trust himself with anyone. He carried this secret with him into every relationship. This fear gnawed at his very core, a constant concern. His nightmares were unpredictable. He didn't want to hurt anyone. He didn't want to lose anyone else. He didn't want –

"Steve? Babe?"

Clearing his throat, Steve focused on his friend. Danny was crouched in front of him now, blue eyes dull with fatigue. He needed to say something. "Yea, Danny."

"Good, you're back." Danny offered his hand. "Let me help you outta those clothes."

Obeying, Steve let Danny strip him and push him into bed. He was asleep in seconds.

/././

Danny knew the risks. Steve was in sensitive territory. Still raw from loss. Lost in the awful aftermath. He didn't know how his best friend would react to strange noises. He had to be deliberate and careful. He kept the lights on low. No surprises. No sudden movements. He was glad there wasn't a television in the room. Which was odd but he was happy. He normally could use the distraction but tonight, he had to concentrate.

Despite his best intentions, Danny drifted to sleep for a few minutes. The odd position he'd slept in did his knee no favors and when he stretched, he realized he had to piss. One beer was apparently one too many.

He crept across the room and slipped into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door. His eyes were adjusted to the dark and he took care of business quickly.

Something was different when he stepped out of the bathroom. Before he could figure out what it was, he was slammed against the wall, elbow digging into throat. He stomped on Steve's bare foot, hoping for even the slightest window. And he got it.

Danny shoved Steve into the opposite wall, unwittingly putting pressure on Steve's injured arm and shoulder. He almost let go when Steve cried out.

"Hey – whoa – Steve, it's Danny."

The wild, glassy glaze of Steve's eyes scared Danny but he had no time to dwell on it. He could only hold Steve back for so long. His muscles screamed as the fury that was SEAL Steve battled for the upper hand.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Steve panted, sweat rolling down his face. And he kept struggling, fingers digging into Danny's arms.

"Come back to me, babe. It's Danny."

Danny hated hurting his friend yet he was concerned for his own life. Steve in this feral, unhinged state was a deadly weapon. There was no filter, only fight or flight with years of training and experience fueling the madness.

He'd seen it a handful of times over the years. There was no reasoning with Steve in this state. Danny had to break the bubble to reach him. Bring him back to reality. Without getting in the way.

"You're safe, Steve. We're in a hotel room. Stand down. It's Danny." He kept his voice steady, not too loud. "Look at me. You know me."

He felt the tension drain away but didn't release his grip. Not yet. Danny'd learned that this move could be a trick. Steve would lull him into a false sense of security and then strike harder. Using the vulnerability as an opportunity.

They stared at one another. He watched Steve fighting his instincts. A string of emotions flashed in his eyes. Confusion, fear. Then anger again as he struggled for freedom.

"Nope, no, can't let you do that, you Neanderthal."

Steve twitched, and Danny hoped he'd reached him.

"Babe?" He reached out again to his best friend.

"Danny?"

Danny sighed but held tight. His name was still more of a question than an acknowledgment.

"That's right, Steve. It's Danny. Your partner. Your best pal. Your-"

"We're married?"

A river of tears streamed down Danny's face, and he sobbed with relief. His Steve was back.

He loosened his grip, and they slid down the wall. Each man recovering from the burst of adrenaline.

"Yes, you idiot. We're married. Kiss me."

"I just might if it would get you off me."

"Hey, you jumped me."

He wouldn't say attacked. No way would he lay that guilt on Steve.

"You know how I get." Steve cradled his arm.

"I had to piss – sue me – and I was careful. You went into ninja mode."

"Sorry, man."

Danny felt Steve pulling away. He held on tight. "Don't apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for, babe."

He nudged Steve and gestured to the bed from their spot on the floor.

"Come on, let's get you back to bed. I need to check your dressings. Okay?"

Danny maneuvered them back to the bed. Steve sat on the edge, studying Danny.

"Why?" He grunted.

"Why what?" Danny lifted Steve's shirt at the collar. A strong hand stopped him. "Hey, animal, let me check you."

Steve relented and turned his head so Danny could get a peek at his bandages. "You keep coming back. I push you away."

"You push me away because you're afraid of getting hurt again."

"I just – all I ever wanted." Steve stopped mid-sentence. He was shaking.

With a faint nod, Danny sat beside Steve. He didn't touch him. Didn't know where or how. Wasn't sure of much except he knew Steve needed a steady presence. Danny could be solid. He could be there for him. No judgement. No bitching about all the risk and insanity. There was no point. The damage had been done. So much worse this time.

"I wish she'd never come back."

Danny wasn't going to argue. He'd been thinking it, too. All those agonizing days of waiting and wondering. He'd had many thoughts about Doris. Most of them weren't productive.

_What if Doris had stayed dead in the first place?_

_Had any good come of her return?_

Danny wasn't sure anything could outweigh the mess Doris had left in her wake.

Now, instead of being that 15 yr old boy forever longing for the mother he lost, Danny feared Steve would blame himself for her death.

So rather than adding to Steve's load, Danny sighed. His vision blurred as more tears fell, and his heart broke when Steve leaned against him. Danny didn't wrap his arms around his best friend when he began to sob. He was afraid of hurting Steve. He held him up, though, and kept him from tumbling over the edge.

They stayed like that for a few minutes. Time didn't matter. Danny lost track of everything except the precious soul pouring his grief out beside him.

Then, he felt Steve straighten. He waited, letting Steve have the floor, if he wanted to talk. He didn't want to rush him or prod him. A startled Steve might bolt. And Danny couldn't lose him again. Not like this.

Steve pulled Danny closer and wiped his face on Danny's shirt. After a beat, a stunned Danny wrinkled his nose and scowled. He was on his feet, eyeballing the wet spot.

"You do know this is my only shirt, right?" Danny fled to the couch.

Steve flashed him the briefest of grins. "I was joking about the bed."

"Thanks, but I'm good here." Danny punched the nearest pillow. "I'm short, remember?"

Rolling his eyes at Danny's attempt at humor, Steve chuckled. But it was an odd strangled sound. Then Steve remembered he needed to say something. "You sure? About the bed."

No way would Danny remind Steve he'd just attacked him.

"Yea, I'm good. It's more comfortable than it looks. You need your rest. And I don't want to hurt you."

"Danny –"

Their eyes met. Fierce love and devotion and honesty. Raw emotion laid bare. For once, Danny was speechless.

Each man settled into their respective spots. Danny used his jacket as a blanket. Steve wrestled with the covers and pillows before finally relaxing.

"I'm glad you're here."

"Wouldn't be anywhere else, babe." Danny stretched out on the couch, facing Steve, arms behind his head. "Good night, babe."

"G'night Danny."

/././

Danny woke from a fitful sleep. Checking his phone, he found he'd only been out for about two hours. A quick glance told him Steve hadn't moved. The slow rise and fall of his chest made him hopeful that his best friend was getting some much-needed rest.

Rather than be relieved by this quiet reprieve, he was pissed – had been from the moment CIA agent Coen opened his mouth in the parking garage. He'd known in his gut that this would not end well. Steve had no choice. He had to go after his mother. It was the cruelest trick the CIA had ever pulled and Danny would hate them forever.

He wasn't surprised when Steve stirred and grunted something about a shower, disappearing into the bathroom. Knowing he wouldn't sleep any more, Danny began his own cleanup mission.

/././

Steve stepped out of the shower and peeked out of the bathroom. He hadn't left the door open. His heart raced and he held his breath as he regained his bearings. One scan of the room, and he realized Danny had been busy.

All bottles had been removed. His supplies on the sink had been organized. His duffle was on the bed.

Squinting, Steve studied Danny. His friend stood at the window, hands in his pockets. He all but vibrated with wariness and concern.

Danny turned when Steve cleared his throat. He smiled. "I ordered room service, babe."

"Thanks, man." No question about what he was thankful for.

"Tani's checking on flights." Danny held up his phone.

"Okay."

"You got anything to tie up here? Or LA?"

"No."

"What about Mary?"

"What about her?"

"Have you told her?"

Steve frowned and looked away. He went for the fridge rather than answer Danny.

"They're gone." Danny moved away from the window.

Steve checked anyway, closing the door with more force than necessary.

"The couple next door was puzzled but accepted the gift."

"You gave my beer away?" Steve was half pissed and kinda amused. "How long was I in the shower?"

"To answer your questions. Yes I did give your beer away and you were in the shower for twenty minutes. I almost sent in a search party."

Danny stood between Steve and the door.

"So you know what I need?"

"Maybe I do." Danny puffed up his chest, hands at his hips. "You're staying put. We're gonna grab a quick bite here. Drink some coffee. I even ordered a slab of butter especially for you."

Steve wrinkled his nose.

Danny knew he'd won. "Go. Sit."

There was a knock at the door. Steve went for the gun he wasn't wearing.

"Easy." Danny held up his hands. "Room service, remember?"

"Yea." Steve backed off, face flushed with sudden embarrassment.

"Hey, it's okay. Don't do that." Danny pointed toward the couch. "I got this. Take a load off."

Danny watched as Steve obeyed. Then, he peered through the peep hole. A hotel employee stood there with what looked like a cart in the distorted image. Being a cop, he would always be careful, checking credentials, making sure this was indeed their order. Paranoia was part of the job. How much you let it affect you made all the difference in your life.

He thanked the young man, slapping a 20 into this hand. Grassfed butter wasn't an easy get. Danny was grateful someone in the hotel kitchen had taken pity on him.

"Here you go. Breakfast of champions. Hot coffee, grassfed butter and scrambled eggs."

"Thank you. I'm not hungry."

"Have some coffee then. Wasn't easy to get this butter." Danny read the label and smiled. "Looks like it came all the way from Ireland."

"You shouldn't have bothered."

"None of that. Coffee. Now. And you need to eat so you can take these." Danny shook a small bottle of ibuprofen.

"You went through my bag?"

"Can't believe you haven't noticed I'm wearing your shirt. Who hooked you up? These are nice threads."

"Junior, I think. I don't know. I-" Steve shrugged, distress evident. So much of the last 48 hours was a blur.

"Hey, it's okay. You're off your game. No one could blame you. You've been through hell."

Jaw tense, Steve shook his head. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped, picking at his eggs before fixing his coffee.

"There ya go. That's good. Caffeine might help with your headache."

Steve looked up at his best friend, raising an eyebrow.

"That's right. I can tell your head is –" Danny didn't finish the sentence. He didn't want to think of anything killing Steve. Even something as benign as a headache.

"Coffee and food won't fix me." Steve growled.

"Didn't say it would."

Steve set his coffee on the table and glared. He was still a live wire, a strong branch ready to crack under such a heavy weight. He'd been on his own for weeks. The knot was fraying. Danny had never been this worried.

Something shifted, and Steve closed his eyes for a breath. Then he blinked and grabbed his mug. "Sorry Danny. Thank you for this."

"You can thank me when we get home."

Eyes narrowed, Steve frowned as he blew on his drink. "What did you do?"

"Nothing. It's what we're gonna do. You're gonna get help this time. And not that lame state mandated bullshit we've been doing. Real therapy." Danny touched Steve's leg. "I'll be there. If you want."

"I'm better off alone, Danny."

"Stop. I'm not leaving you. We're gonna do this together. You. Me. The team. What ever you need. On our terms."

Looking away, façade cracking, Steve shook his head.

"And I'm sorry about your mom, Steve. Sorry it happened like this. It wasn't your fault. You didn't have a choice. You – god – you're a victim in all of this."

Steve turned to Danny, surprised by the comment and the sudden fire in his friend's voice.

"I'm pissed, Steve. I don't care how many nice letters you get. How many commendations or condolences they give out. Fuck them. They sent you on a suicide mission. Knowing you might get killed. And for what? To clean up a mess. And they were wrong."

Danny took a breath and a sip of his coffee before continuing his rant.

"And you completed the mission. You brought down Lucia. You stopped those drugs. And for what? Yea, that's an incredible bust, sure. But you lost your mom. You almost didn't come back. Thank god for Junior and your SEAL buddies."

"Danny." Steve's voice was calm, cutting through the monumental rant. When Danny didn't quite stop, Steve hit him with his nickname. "Danno, look at me."

Startled, face red, eyes watering, Danny caught his breath.

"I love you. And that's on my terms. Our terms." Steve set down his coffee and put his hand over Danny's. "Take a breath. Drink some coffee."

Danny nodded and added creamer to his mug. Steve took a few bites of scrambled egg. They didn't speak for a few minutes.

"Thank you. For having my back."

"Of course, Steve. Always." Danny stirred his coffee. He wiped out the off-white swirl of cold cream. "You're right, you know."

"I'm right?" Steve laughed.

Danny enjoyed the rush of relief at hearing his best friend laugh. He shook it off, sobering a little so he could say what was on his mind. "We have little control over life. Except for one thing. How we react."

"You basically repeated what I said."

"Let me finish."

"Okay." Steve gestured for Danny to share his thoughts.

"Back when Five-0 started," Danny swallowed hard. "I almost – part of me fought like hell to –" He cleared his throat and took a drink before adding. "I stayed because of you. That was my terms. You kept me here. Life threw other things at me. My knee. Rachel. Five-0 got disbanded. You went to jail. I almost got blown up. Grace was kidnapped."

Danny stopped and took a deep breath. Steve pushed a pile of eggs around his plate, stabbing them with a fork before shoving them into his mouth like the animal he was. Things felt so normal all of a sudden. Like they were going to be okay. Danny let himself enjoy that feeling so foreign and fleeting that he didn't always trust it. Then he finished his thought.

"Back in Jersey I never imagined this life. I followed my kid. And I found you."

Steve stopped chewing and talked with his mouth full. "You were investigating a case, Danny."

"Your dad, Steve. Life connected us."

"Again, you're proving my point."

"Yea, maybe life's terms aren't always so bad, huh?"

Steve set his fork down and scratched his chin, quiet for a few seconds before he sighed. "I'm never getting rid of you, am I?"

* * *

**Thanks, as always, for reading. I'm still not sure I did the episode justice. **


End file.
